My Favorite Things

Oh, goody! I have two and a half weeks before I have to head for California for a 3-week homeschool convention "loop." Since moving over here the end of May, I've had no time to pursue one of my favorite homestead activities: thinning trees and hauling forest "trash" to the burn pile.

The Ponderosa pine on our homestead grow as fast as carrots, and they need to be thinned in order to keep them healthy (and so the lower branches don't all die).

So I started up the 4-wheeler this morning, hitched up the trailer, grabbed a clippers and a saw, and off I went. It's fun to make the place look nice and it's great exercise. The only trouble is that there are fourteen acres of trees and trash (leftover piles from logging years ago).

What Do You Do with All Those Goat Kids?

Kristel and Chad bottle-feeding a couple of kids for "fun"

I have been at a couple of homeschool conferences two weekends in a row, so I dug into the archives to find a story from our past "rural town" homesteading days. Here is an old post from a couple of years ago:

Awhile ago, I was reading a blog about a "Goat Lady." It was fascinating to learn the woman raises 400 goats! They were for meat, which reminded me of our one-time adventure with goat meat.

First of all, let me say that I LOVE dairy goats–they are right up there with my all-time favorite farm residents, the low-maintenance chicken.

Now, to keep a steady supply of goat milk coming, you have to breed the does. I milked two nubian goats steadily, and each doe was faithful to produce two or three kids every year. Most were bucks. My husband and I thought, "Ah-ha! Here is an easy source of free meat, much like lamb." (Another story about that. We raised sheep too).

Kristel and a little friend

"Free" meat is never free. And it is easier said then done to get a supply. After disbudding and castrating the little bucks, we allowed them to grow strong and healthy on all the free milk (we separated them at night, and I only milked once a day). Two goats give a LOT of milk for one family! At about two months of age, we figured they were just about "cookin’ size." So, we butchered them. Ourselves. What a mess. Goat kids don’t have near the amount of meat per pound as does a fat little lamb. It was a LOT of work to dress the kids and cut them up. And the flavor wasn’t like lamb. It was more gamey—more like venison. It wasn't tender, either. But is WAS free. Sort of. If you don't count labor (never count labor in your idea of what is free when it comes to the farm).

It took us one time to decide that eating our own goat kids was SO not worth the time and mess. From then on, we kept them for 2 months, loaded them into the truck, and hauled them to the Sales Barn (livestock auction), where the Asians snatched them up for a tidy sum—which helped pay for hay and grain for the milking goats. A MUCH better trade-off! 

Making Tub Butter

Do you, like me, despise tub margarine that seems to be about 80% water and lasts less than a week, since you have to spread so much of it on your bread to get any taste? Do you, like me, wonder what it’s actually made of? What a waste of money! And it’s not very healthy, either.

But butter alone is too hard to use if left in the fridge, and too soft (especially in the summer) if left out. (Besides, the cat might jump up and start licking any butter that is left out on the counter.)

Ta-Da! There is hope. Years ago, I learned how to make butter that keeps in the fridge yet stays SOFT, just like tub margarine. The perfect homestead compromise between natural butter and healthy canola or olive oil. Since learning about this, I have not looked back. And I have not bought tub margarine since.

To make this simple concoction, you need:

1) A blender2) 2 cubes (1 cup) soft butter
3) 1 cup Canola or Olive oil
4) A 2-cup Tupperware or Ziplock plastic container with tight lid.

Blend the oil and soft butter together until smooth and creamy. Pour into the storage container, snap on the lid, and put in the refrigerator. It hardens up to the consistency of tub margarine. It lasts a lot longer than tub margarine because you don’t need very much to taste it. And it cuts your butter costs in half.

Enjoy!

Speaking of Fires . . .

The middle of the day

Seeing the fires in Arizona (so bad!) reminds me of the fire we had in the mountains, back in 2007. It was not anywhere near our place, but southwest of us, near Chelan (54 miles away).  It was the eeriest thing ever. The sun turned blood red, and you could look right at it, even at noontime.

The layer of smoke from the south hung over our mountain for a couple of days. The wind didn't blow. It looked like the setting for the Land of Mordor, from The Lord of the Rings.

At night, the moon was red too!

Blood-red noon sun

Smoke just hanging over the mountains in the middle of the day

The Top of the World!

"We're on the top of the world, lookin' down on creation . . ."

When you are eight and six years old, the top of Mt. Hull (over 3,000 feet) is the top of the world, to be sure! Katelyn is pointing out to Ellie the eastern slopes of the Cascade Range from the Rock, our viewing point above our homestead.

The girls pulled out their homemade booklets and sketched the scenery. They also snacked on Reece's Peanut Butter cups and lemonade. (Need that energy, you know!)

All in all, a gorgeous day in the Okanogan Highlands.

Civilization at Last!

The screen "at rest' and out of the way

After fifteen years of "summer cabin" mode, we have joined civilization at last! They hooked up the satellite dish (now we have two: one for internet; one for TV). But here is the latest invention:

Space is severely limited in the 25 x 25 cabin (plus loft), as you may know. Lucky for us, the spaces between the supporting beams is just right to slip a 42" flat screen snuggly into it. But, who wants that thing to dangle down and have us walking into it? No problem! Roger created a "stand" that screws into the wall and moves in and out to keep the screen protected when not in use.

The screen swung down into viewing mode

When we want to watch TV, we just unsnap a sturdy hook behind the screen and swing the screen so it hangs straight. Of course, there will be a stand under this, but I wanted to take a picture before I forgot! 

One Section at a Time

Slopping Varathane on a section of wall

As everyone can see in the photo on the right sidebar, our home is an A-frame. Beautiful, massive beams (they sure don't make 'em like that anymore) and tongue-and-groove planking form the walls. We like the open-beam look.

Just one little problem. It appears that back in the 60s (when this cabin was originally built), the builder simply dumped his supplies on the ground and then put them up.

Result: fine, Eastern WA silty dust coats every plank and beam.

Solution: Wash every plank. Easier said than done. We bought a carpet cleaner with an upholstery attachment, which works really well scrubbing and soaking the walls. But it creates a mess! Muddy water drips everywhere. But once the walls are clean, a few coats of Varathane make them shine so nicely (Can you see the difference between the shiny part and the yet-unfinished part?)

It's gonna take forever . . .

I Love My Dresser! I Love My Dresser!

When one has only a 25 x25 A-frame cabin (plus loft), one must get creative about the furniture. The perfect place for a dresser is in this “useless” space under the ladder. But of course you can’t buy something like this. It must be custom-made. So Roger worked long and hard and came up with this beautiful set of dresser drawers for the cabin!

It holds a lot more clothes than our old dresser back home. I love it!

Laundry on the Homestead

Doing laundry is a little different on the homestead. We have a very small washing machine, tucked away under the eaves of the A-frame in the bathroom, and it uses cold water only.

On sunny days, I now can go back to what used to be an enjoyment of mine: hanging clothes out on the line (I loved hanging cloth diapers in the sun and wind!). We have a corner clothesline, right on the deck. As long as I'm not burning an outside fire, it's safe to hang clothes up.

And rain or shine, this inside clothesline works great (or, like today, when I had a lot of laundry to do and needed both lines). The inside one is an invention Roger came up with. It raises and lowers with a pulley and a rope. It holds two loads from the little machine, and if the clothes are hung in the late afternoon or evening, they are dry the next morning--even in the middle of winter. The heat rising up to the A-frame cabin makes this an excellent alternative to depending on electricity, even though electricity is pretty cheap over here.

Coyotes and Chickens and Kids, Oh, My!

I'm in Nampa (Idaho) for the CHOIS homeschool convention, so I thought it would be a great opportunity to tell some of my favorite homestead stories from the past. Years ago, we had a one-acre homestead "farm" in rural western Washington, where we raised chickens, dairy goats, sheep, a yearly beef calf, meat rabbits, angora rabbits, a pair of geese, and even a horse for a season (not everything at the same time!), plus the usual cats.

So, take a ride in my time machine and enjoy this first Blast from the Past:

One morning, not so many years ago, my 8-year-old daughter, Kristel, came screaming into the house with an empty egg basket (her morning chore was collecting eggs). "There's a coyote eating our chickens!" she shrieked. 

Without a thought, I snatched up the first thing I came across--a broom--and tore out of the house. Indeed, the chicken yard looked like a war zone. The hens were ravished! Infuriated at this wanton act of destruction, I looked around for the culprit. Sure enough, there he was with a chicken in his mouth. I ran after him, hollered, and whacked at him. He dropped the chicken and took off. 

 But not for long . . . Soon (and I mean a few minutes later) the coyote was back for the breakfast he'd dropped on the run. Enough of this, I thought. So I went into the closet and got out the .22 pistol. I slammed in the clip, told the kids to stay in the house, and went out in the front yard. There he was, not more than 15 feet away, with another chicken in his mouth. He looked at me--daring me to take action.

That did it! We lived inside the city limits, but I didn't care if I shouldn't be shooting off guns in town. I took aim and shot at the coyote. He didn't drop dead. He didn't drop the chicken. He didn't yelp. He didn't move. He just looked at me. Another shot. Same reaction. I began to think I was firing blanks. Two more shots. Missed again. 

Then, apparently disgusted with my poor marksmanship, he trotted off---chicken still in his mouth. We never saw him again.

Moral: If you're going to shoot a coyote, try some target practice first.

Kristel around the time of the coyote incident:

It's . . . It's . . . Sunshine!

Quick! Before it rains! I planted our new little garden. The size was determined by the amount of deer netting we had on hand (Walmart was out). Along with this little mini-delight, our 7 blueberry plants and one Italian prune tree huddle in safety from those leaf-chomping varmits called white-tailed deer.

I have to say that the dirt here on our homestead is the best dirt I've every worked with (and that's saying a lot, having grown gardens for most of my married life). No rocks, except bitty ones; fine, crumbly loam/silt, with just enough clay to hold the water but not drown the plants. It rototilled up so fine and nice! Even after pouring down rain yesterday, I could plant today and it was NOT MUDDY! I am saddened to think that my poor DD back in Enumclaw is anxious to plant her garden on our old place, which they are renting. But alas, it is not to be. It is sloppy mud with a clay content of about 80% and the water table is about 12" down these days. Bad news for them.

That is why I am so pleased with our little experimental garden. There is one row of spinach, two rows of beans, a row of broccoli, a row of cilantro, and three rows of corn. Oh, and a tiny hill of acorn squash.

I hope this weekend warms up and everything comes up soon!